Honey Tone took a look through the window at his conspicuous mount. "Sure looms up. How come de goat?"
"'At goat's mah pussonal luck."
Honey Tone looked sideways at the Wildcat. "Does yo' feel like backin' yo' luck wid a jingle, mebbe I 'bliges yo' sudden. Dey's a racetrack in de back room does you crave to gallop yo' luck a couple of heats."
The Wildcat accepted the challenge. The pair walked quickly into the back room.
"Shoots a dollah!" He explored himself for silver and revised his challenge. "Shoots fifty cents. Ain't got but sixty, an' I needs a dime fo' goobers does I lose."
"Boy, roll 'em." Honey Tone proffered a pair of anxious dice, but the Wildcat paid no attention to the offer.
"I got mah pussonal weapons," he said. He fished a pair of dice from his left shoe. "Dey speaks de language. Gallopehs, git right. Wham! Ah tol' you! Ah lets it lay. Shoots a dollah."
Honey Tone faded the bet. "Roll 'em." The Wildcat touched the tips of his fingers to Lily's head. "Goat, stan' by me." His swinging hand released a pair of dice whose innocent upturned faces presently revealed a four and a trey. "Seven! Ah lets it lay. Whole hog o' de squeal."
"Roll 'em!"
"Bam. Six an' five. Ah done climbed de luck tree. Honey Tone, shake me out. Shoots fo' dollahs. Lily, stan' by me!"